Sins of the Father
by Jacquelin Sparrow
Summary: UPDATED. FORTEEN CHAPTERS PEOPLE! Jack decides to pay his old friends a visit. Meanwhile, a stranger from his past requests a favor from Will, one that draws old Jack's attention...read and reveiw!
1. Half A Sword

It was a dismal, grey day in Port Royal Jamaica. Pale light streamed through the shop windows, teasing the dust that ever floated through the building's interior. Will hummed a bit to himself as he worked; it took less energy than whistling and helped him keep a steady beat with his hammer. Watching the metal take shape as he worked it, the young man smiled. Lord Eddings, he was certain, would be extremely pleased with his work and only too happy to pay the hefty price Will had asked for the piece. The sword was still far from overpriced, but it would more than aid the slightly-below-noble-class lifestyle that he was able to provide for Elizabeth.

The thought of his wife made him grin widely. A year's worth of marriage had not dimmed their passion, and had served to draw them closer than ever. Certainly there were the troubles that all couples went through, but they were happy, Will was certain. Inevitably, thoughts of the past drew him to thoughts of Jack. Captain Jack Sparrow, he corrected himself silently. He hadn't seen the enigmatic pirate since the wedding, when Jack had dressed as a gentleman to attend.

Will remembered the suspicious look on Norrington's face when he'd asked the newlyweds about their friend, and the hilarity that had followed when the Commodore noticed Jack's infamous teeth.

Will plunged the near-finished blade into a basin of water to cool it and hung it in place to finish tomorrow. The day had grown very dark now, and rain slapped angrily against the windows. Glad the shop is so close to home, he thought. All it would take was the opening and closing of two doors and the crossing of a short hallway to bring him into the home he shared with Elizabeth. Suddenly, as he removed the leather apron that protected his clothes, the door to the shop swung open violently, slapping the wall hard. A figure was outlined darkly in the doorframe, leaning against the lintel almost casually.

"Can I help you?" Will asked politely. The figure moved a few feet into the room, revealing such adornments as a dark greatcoat, a tri-cornered hat, and, most importantly, a sword and pistol stuck jauntily in a sash- covered belt. Will drew in a sharp breath. Pirate.

Of course, he knew not all pirates meant to pilfer and plunder, rifle and loot. At least, not all the time. However, Will's experiences with pirates had taught him that not all pirates were like Jack.

"I need a sword," the figure told him. The voice was rife with piratical accent, but lighter than Will had expected. The reason for this, he realized as the figure stepped into the lamplight, was that the figure was female. She gazed at him through burning, dark eyes, her face a pale golden mask in the lamplight. She removed her hat, revealing cedar-colored locks braided and beaded away from her face. Moving forward to lean against a convenient table, she drew her own blade from its sheath. The steel was broken jaggedly about six inches from the hilt. Will took the destroyed weapon into his hands, touching it carefully.

The sword had been well-made, the steel folded more than twice and the balance must have been perfect when the blade was whole. A design, ending abruptly where the steel had shattered, wended its way gracefully along the metal.

"I can pay you handsomely for a new blade," the woman said. Her voice seemed slightly strained. Will placed the sword on the table and gave her and incredulous look.

"Yes, I'm certain you can," he said carefully. "But, will it be your gold, or that of someone you've plundered?"

"Mine," she said succinctly. "I do more than pillage, lad. Trade is a lucrative practice, as well." She drew out a small pouch that clinked heavily when she tossed next to the sword. The woman gasped as she threw it; it appeared she was not in the best of health.

"I'll pay extra if you tell no one about this." Will nodded. Of course, she would want no one to know that she was frequenting Port Royal, nor did he need the publicity that forging a pirate's blade would bring. Besides, he'd done as much for Jack, once upon a time.

"I'll need the other half of the blade," he said, "to measure length, weight, and balance. And, also for a rubbing if you want the same design engraved in the new blade. Also, I'll need a name." He sighed at her suspicious look. "Any name."

"Mari Cutlass," she told him boldly. "Captain Mari Cutlass. And, as for the other half of the blade," she flipped back the right side of her greatcoat, "that'll be a mite harder." Will's eyes followed her movements, widening in shock as he saw what she had revealed. Lodged firmly in the woman's thigh, allowing blood to trickle down an already soaked pant-leg was the other half of Mari's blade.


	2. Arrivals and Discoveries

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me," Elizabeth murmured as she prepared the evening meal. The song always brought a smile to her lips, holding the dual memories of her first meeting with Will, and her time on the island with Jack. The men were so different, she reflected, yet she loved them both very much. Of course, one love was different from the other. She smiled, and cast her eyes toward the door that joined the house with the shop. Will would be coming in any moment now, perhaps with a rose or other small gift for her. He did that occasionally, the ever-attentive husband.  
  
Elizabeth was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the door to the outside creak slowly open, nor the soft footsteps as someone made his way in. In fact, she didn't notice the presence of another until he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Madam Turner, it's been far too long!" a familiar voice exclaimed. Elizabeth whirled about only to come face-to-face with none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Jack, it's so good to see you!" Elizabeth exclaimed and threw her arms about him. Slightly surprised, Jack returned the embrace, grinning roguishly.

"Marriage seems to have done you good! It's certainly doing me some favors." Elizabeth laughed where once she would have been insulted.

"Don't expect too much of that; Will will get jealous. What brings you back to Port Royal?" Jack hooked a nearby stool and settled on it comfortably. He grinned his infamous shining grin and said cryptically,

"Business, love. Only business."

Will gaped at the horrible wound in Mari's thigh.

"How did this happen?" he asked. The young woman shifted her weight, grunting with the effort.

"How and why aren't important, mate. You need the other half of the sword; I don't, leastways not as it is now. What I need at this moment is help removing the thing; help me, and we may both have what we need." The tone of her voice, the way she spoke, the gleam in her dark eyes, all seemed suddenly familiar. These, coupled with her obvious need and Will's altruistic nature, convinced the young man to help her. He inspected the wound carefully for a moment, then picked up a pair of metal tongs.

"It's touching the bone, so I have to pull it out the way it went in. Here," he handed her a tie-strap of his leather apron, "bite this, if you need to."

"Thoughtful lad," Mari murmured, and put the strap between her teeth. Will clasped the bit of blade with his tongs and braced himself.

"Ready?" The young woman nodded; Will pulled. There was a very muffled scream as the razor-sharp fragment further severed muscle and nerve. It was longer than Will had previously thought, and he pulled quickly to spare Mari as much pain as possible. When the ordeal was finally over, Mari stood with her eyes closed, breathing evenly, her face taut. Will dropped the blade and tongs carelessly and bent to inspect the wound. It was bleeding profusely, now; there was little chance that a bit of tight linen would stem the flow.

"It'll need to be cauterized," Will said quietly.

"...the pistol was aimed right at me bleedin' head, love, cocked and a hair away from sendin' me down to Davey Jone's locker." Jack gestured expansively as he unfolded his tale. Doubtless he was embroidering quite a bit. _Then again_, Elizabeth thought,_ most would believe I was embroidering as well if I told them I'd sailed with undead pirates._

"But Fate had her right hand on me shoulder, and the blackguard took a step t' adjust his aim. He stepped on the spilled musket balls and flipped himself right over the rail!" Here, Jack's gestures nearly sent him from his stool. He righted himself quickly and continued. "Well, ye can imagine what happened then, us sailin' shark-infested waters and all..." His voice trailed off as he bit into a proffered apple.

"A just fate, I'm certain," Elizabeth agreed, then frowned at the door to the shop. "Will should be home by now. He would have told me if he were working late..." At that moment, a strained scream came from the shop, rife with pain. Elizabeth and Jack shared a wild look and dashed for the door.

Will held up the glowing metal rod, his eyes flickering between it and Mari's face. At the moment, she was unreadable, though her gaze never left the cherry-red iron. She reached down and ripped the hole in her trews wider so that Will could see the wound clearly.

"Just do it, mate," she muttered. Will did as he was told. Faster than he could think, so that he wouldn't have to think about it, he flicked away the cloth and plunged the brand against Mari's wounded thigh. Without the leather to dig her teeth into, Mari's scream was un-muffled, echoing from the shop walls. Will yanked the brand away, tossed it back in the forge flame, and placed a chair so that Mari would fall into it rather than to the floor.

Moments later, the door to the house flew open and Elizabeth burst in, followed swiftly by none other than Jack Sparrow. The two ground to a halt when they caught sight of Will standing over a young pirate woman with a bloody hole torn in her trousers. Sweat covered them both, and Will still held Mari's arm from helping her into the chair.

"Will, what happened?" Elizabeth rushed over to the pair and, seeing her husband unscathed, turned to Mari.

"This one didn't cheat, eh, whelp?" Jack asked, swaggering to his friend's side. Mari and Will both looked up. Will smiled enormously; Mari's mouth fell open.

"Jack! How are you?" Will said, at the same moment Mari exclaimed, "What the bloody blazes are you doing here?" Jack answered them both in the same breath.

"Right as rum in me hand, young Will." He glanced at Mari, his eyes widening in surprise. "I'm a friend of the family. What are you doing here?"

"I needed a sword," Mari said defensively. Elizabeth stood from her ministrations and offered Mari her arm to lean upon.

"You need more than a sword," she said firmly. She eyed Jack. "You seem to know her, Jack. Is she trustworthy?"

"As trustworthy as I am, love."

Will rolled his eyes as he took Mari's other arm. "Then we can expect twice the trouble?" "Aye," Mari said softly. No one heard her.

"That hurts, mate," Jack told Will as he followed them into the house. "It really does."


	3. Awkwardness and Funny Sounds

**Disclaimer:** Since I don't have one on the other chapters, this is a reminder. I own nothing, save Mari. She is my pride and joy and I'm exceedingly proud of the way she's turned out. sniff They grow up so fast...

**A/N:** There is a point to all of the chapters so far. I know it's moving a bit slow, but it will speed up. In the meantime, enjoy the interplay between Jack, erm, _Captain_ Jack and Mari. I mean, _Captain _Mari...oh, bother, they're all the same. ;)

"What happened?" Elizabeth demanded as they entered the house. She carefully thrust Mari onto Jack's stool and gathered water and bandages. Mari looked at the group rather sullenly, thinking suddenly she'd have been better off in the hands of the Royal Navy. They didn't ask questions.

"I ran into a chap I haven't seen in years," Mari said jovially. She winced as Elizabeth began cleaning the blood from her thigh. "He never did like me much," she added.

"Sangre," Jack muttered under his breath.

Will glanced at him. "Sangre?" he asked. "What is that?"

"Not what, mate," Jack said quietly. "Who."

"They need know nothing, Jack," Mari said firmly. "They have no claim in this."

"I'd say they bloody do, my lass," Jack told her. "Bootstrap's family has as much stake in this as do we."

"I'm not 'your lass,'" Mari muttered, then realized what Jack had said. Her gaze fixed on Will.

"Young William?" she said quietly. Will nodded.

"Your father spoke of you often," she said. Will's eyes widened, his mouth opening in question, but Jack interrupted him.

"Where is it?" he demanded.

"Where's what?" Mari snapped back. Jack came very close to the woman's uninjured side.

"You know precisely what I'm talking about, my lass. Out with it."

Mari glared at him for a few seconds, then slowly drew a tiny square of parchment from her belt pouch. Jack plucked it from her fingers and looked at it. His jaw clenched as he crumpled the paper in his fist.

"You said nothing," Jack murmured dangerously. "You sent no message, you didn't seek me out?"

Mari remained silent. "

You ran from him? You ran from Sangre and then led him here?" Jack's voice was rising with uncharacteristic rage. Will and Elizabeth stared. They hadn't truly thought him capable of this sort of anger.

"You're practically giving Sangre all of us, wrapped up in a nice, neat package! If your blood trail doesn't lead him here, rumors will!"

Jack gripped Mari's shoulders, his eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you call on the Pearl? On me?"

"The last time I elicited your help, Jack Sparrow, you turned me in to the British Royal Navy!" It was now Mari's turn for rage.

"You left me in that godforsaken jail cell to get _hung_! That on its own proves you monumentally unreliable, not to mention all the incidents of my childhood on the Pearl-"

"That seafaring childhood is what kept you alive, young missy," Jack hissed.

"To bad for that," Mari snapped back. The two began arguing in earnest now, shouting at the top of their sea-roughened voices.

In the middle of all this mess, Elizabeth's maid, Estrella, stepped into the kitchen.

"My lord," she murmured to Will, "the Commodore's come calling."

Will's stomach turned over. "Show him into the parlor; we'll be with him as soon as we can."

Estrella nodded, and swept out of the room, taking young Anne with her. Estrella was as unflappable as a stiff set of shutters; the sight of two pirates screaming at one another in her lord's kitchen did nothing to her constitution.

"Pardon me," Will said loudly.

"_Arrogant_, insufferable old man..." Mari snapped.

"_Supercilious_ little monkey..." Jack retorted.

"Would the two of you..." Will interjected.

"I thought hey named the monkey after you." Mari remarked.

"Just like her _mother_..."

"Should have considered that before _sleeping_ with her..."

Will gaped for a moment at this revelation.

"Don't thrust into my affairs!" Jack shouted

"I'm the _result_ of your constant affairs!"

_"HEY!"_ Will retrieved his bearings and shouted at the top of his lungs. Both pirates and his wife stared at him in shock. The blacksmith took a deep breath.

"The good Commodore has decided to pay my wife and me a visit. I suggest the two of you resolve your family spat upstairs"- both looked sheepish here- "and," he glanced at Elizabeth, who was now smirking just a bit, "after he has gone, we are going to hear the full story of this Sangre. Now, upstairs! Elizabeth?"

Will offered his wife his arm as the two pirates scrambled upstairs. The Turners made their way sedately into the parlor and greeted James Norrington (they hoped) as if there were nothing amiss. Norrington greeted them both genially, though Will thought his gaze rested a bit too long on Elizabeth. But, a mere gaze was nothing to duel over, and the blacksmith ignored it.

"What brings us the pleasure of your company, Commodore?" Elizabeth asked politely, but rather distantly. Will resisted breaking into a satisfied smile.

"I'm afraid this isn't merely a pleasant call," the Commodore began. A loud thump overhead distracted him for a moment. But, Norrington recovered his composure quickly and continued.

"You see," he began again, "there have been several pirate ships spotted uncomfortably close to the harbor, two last night and one this morning. One of them," he sighed heavily, "had black sails."

Elizabeth gasped, while Will's mouth dropped open. He knew! He knew that Jack was here, that they were hiding a criminal...

"I know that you are rather fond of a certain pirate captain," Norrington went on, "but if you have any information on the whereabouts of pirates, any pirates..." Once again, the officer paused as a series of clearly audible thumps came from above them.

"What is going on up there?" the Commodore asked. The Turners wracked their brains for an excuse.

"We've got" –another thump, Will cursed inwardly. "We've got, um..."

"Bats!" Elizabeth supplied. "Bats came in through the upstairs fireplace. We would have told you, but it's a rather embarrassing situation..." Another thud, this time accompanied by the sound of shattering china.

"They're very big bats," Will told the Commodore carefully. The officer's face was a moue of confusion.

"So it would seem," he remarked dryly.

"There are rooms and baths prepared for you upstairs," Estrella explained as she led Jack and Mari upstairs.

"You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful maid I've made acquaintance with," Jack said exultantly. Estrella opened a door and ushered them inside.

"Probably the only one, Master Sparrow," she replied. Jack grinned and kissed her hand.

"Never assume anything, love. And it's captain, if you please."

"As you please," Estrella said, blushing slightly. "Your room adjoins to this one, through that door there." And she left.

Mari dipped her fingers into the bath water and sighed.

"Better accommodations than I've had in a while," she commented, casting Jack a significant look.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I've explained to you already; you were safer in the jail."

"Oh, yes, it's very safe to be sitting in a stone gutter waiting for the gift of a hempen collar!"

"Sangre was _there_ that day, Mari! He was looking for you."

Mari shot him a sharp look and slipped behind the changing screen. "I don't believe you!"

Jack threw up his hands. "Haven't you ever heard of suspension of disbelief?"

Mari stormed into the open, wearing her drawers and shirt only and holding a leather boot.

"It's not a safe thing to practice in certain company," she retorted.

Jack decided to change the subject. "Why did you come here?"

"Why does any pirate come to Port Royal?"

"No, I mean why _here_? Why this particular blacksmith's shop?"

"You saw my sword. Turner has a good reputation."

"And him being Bootstrap's son has nothing to do with it?"

"Saving that he'd be more willing to work with pirates...no. What are you implying, Jack?"

"Everyone needs a bit of leverage."

"You think I would trade him to Sangre, to save myself?" Jack shrugged.

Mari twisted the boot in her hands. "I would _never_ betray anyone in Bootstrap's line. That's your area of expertise."

"Ah, but dear lass, you are your father's daughter, savvy?"

The boot flew at his face, hitting its mark squarely. Jack, not expecting the blow, fell backward with a thud. He then hurled the offending piece of footwear at Mari, but missed, hitting the changing screen. The screen fell with a clatter, knocking over the chair and stand next to it. The china pitcher on the stand also fell and shattered. The two stared at the mess for a long moment.

"Your room, not mine," Jack proclaimed.

The mate to the first boot sailed after him as he swaggered through the door, but hit only the lintel. It fell to the floor with another resounding thud.

**A/N:** I know this ends pretty openly, but it was kinda long, so I felt it would be better if I truncated it somewhat. Feel free to review! I mean, really, I could use the praise....please?


	4. Near Miss

**Disclaimer:** It's all Disney's. Except Mari. She's my character, mine, my own!! My precisssious pirate persona... erm. Yeah.  
  
**A/N:** Big thanks to BlackJack, Takada Saiko, and especially SonofAnthronis and Samluvsbanana! I know who you are! sinister laugh

A door slammed heavily somewhere above them. James Norrington looked up skeptically.

"I wasn't aware that bats are capable of using doors," he commented. Will and Elizabeth carefully avoided sharing a glance; Norrington noticed.

"Are you absolutely certain you've heard nothing from Sparrow or any other pirate?" he asked again. Elizabeth directed her nervousness into an offended mien.

"Why, Commodore! How could you accuse us of such a deception? Really, do you believe we would harbor criminals?"

"Indeed," Will joined in, "don't you think I would try to avoid a reputation of dealing with pirates? The last thing I need is to lose business!"

Norrington stood stiffly, looking down on the couple with disbelief evident in his eyes. "

Then I suppose you won't mind my seeing about your...bat problem? Perhaps I could be of some assistance." And he strode toward the steps. Will and Elizabeth scrambled after him, tossing out protests.

"As grateful as we are for your help, there is really no need," Elizabeth babbled. "Will and I are quite capable of solving this problem on our own."

The Commodore paused and turned to face them both.

"Come now, Master Turner, Madame Turner. We both know you are harboring someone in this house, and I believe I know precisely who it is. Now, please, allow me to do my duty by doing yours."

With that he resumed his journey to the second floor. He traversed the hallway briskly, stopping when he heard sounds coming from behind a door. With a glance at the Turners, still close behind him, he flung the door open. There was a small, feminine yelp, and a gasp from the Commodore, who quickly averted his eyes.

"My abject apologies, my lady!" he said stiffly, looking resolutely to the left. "And, I suppose, to you also, Will. Elizabeth. It appears I was quite mistaken."

Confused, the Turners peered around the doorframe only to see Mari in a dressing gown, her hair damp and neatly combed. She had a rather amused smile on her face, and was quietly edging her pirate memorabilia further out of sight behind the changing screen. Jack, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm terribly sorry, Commodore, in the confusion about the _bats_," this word was said significantly in Mari's direction, "I forgot to mention that my...cousin! Yes, my cousin, Margaret Swann was visiting us from England."

By this time, the look on Mari's face had changed from amused to downright perplexed. However, she recognized the Commodore and had the presence of mind to play along. She stepped forward with a properly humble look on her face and dipped a slight curtsy.

"It is an honor, Commodore," she said, all trace of piratical slur erased, "although I do wish it could have been under more...formalized circumstances."

"Indeed, Miss Swann, I must ask your pardon. I am on the trail of a rather infamous pirate. I had reason to believe that he was hiding here."

Mari's eyes grew wide with alarm. "My goodness, I wasn't aware that Port Royal had such a problem with those blackguards! Lizzie never told me."

The Commodore cleared his throat.

"That is indeed a surprise, knowing Mrs. Turner's fascination with them. Once again, I extend my apologies for so invading your home. Good evening Master Turner, Madame Turner, Miss Swann."

With that, he began to make his way downstairs. As soon as his footsteps receded, Jack opened the door in the bedroom wall, a grin plastered on his face. The four exchanged glances, then broke into laughter. Quiet laughter; the Commodore had not yet exited the house.

"Ruddy brilliant, Elizabeth!" Jack exclaimed. "A deception worthy of any great seafaring scallywag!"

"It never would have worked without Mari's excellent acting skills," Elizabeth said with mock modesty. "But what was all that racket up here?"

"Yes," Will added, "that's what brought the Commodore dashing up the stair in the first place."

"We were settling our family dispute," Mari said flippantly.

"Indeed, things tend to be...violently misplaced when more than one Sparrow is in the room," Jack agreed.

"My surname is _Cutlass_," Mari muttered. Jack waved the bit of paper from her belt pouch under her nose.

"This little bit of incontrovertible evidence speaks otherwise, my lass."

"What precisely is that?" Will inquired. "I think it's time we heard the full story of what's going on."

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**A/N:** See? I said things would move faster! They're gonna start up double quick. Oh, and James' role in this is faaaar from over!! Review, I beg of you!


	5. The Full Story, At Least, We Think So

**Disclaimer:** Mari is mine. In fact, in many ways, she is me. I own nothing else, b/c of those pesky restraining orders. I didn't know that pirates could file those....  
  
  
  
"It all started, really, long before young Mari was born," Jack began. They sat in the Turners' parlor. Jack sprawled in a chair with his favorite beverage, Mari had donned clean clothes and was sitting similarly on the other side of the room. She also held her own portion of alcohol, and had already drained half of the cup.

Will and Elizabeth had settled on a couch between them, both wondering dimly if this was strictly a safe position. Clearly, the two pirates had no qualms about hurling things at one another, and with rum inside they might not have the best aim.

"That was also long before Barbossa; then the Pearl's first mate was a Scottish lass named Ruthie." Jack smiled a bit here. "They called her Ruthie the Ruthless, or Ruth the Black. Depended on the ocean we happened to be plundering. Your dad, Will, was on board then, too, and the three of us was thick as thieves." He gulped some rum. "Well, actually we _were_ thieves, so that makes a lot of sense. Anyway, we were all young and thought ourselves unstoppable. I, of course, have long proven myself to be unstoppable, as I'm Captain Jack Sparrow..."

"Come to the point, Jack," Will said, as the pirate seemed willing to go on in that vein for a while.

"Keep your britches buttoned, young William, I'm on my way. Every story needs a bit of color. At any rate, we all do rather stupid things when we're in our twenties," Jack looked about at the others in the room. All of whom were in their twenties. He coughed lightly. "One of the stupid things the three of us happened to do was cross a man named Captain Samuel Sangre. He's the fiercest pirate in the sea-"

"I thought that was you?" Mari said dryly. Her father gave her an exasperated look.

"I'm the most _cunning_, my lass. There's quite a bit of difference. So, Sangre is the fiercest, most bloodthirsty pirate in the waters. I watched him rip a man's intestines out and hang him –still alive- by his ankles from the yardarm. Took him three days to die."

Elizabeth gasped at this; Will swallowed and took her hand.

"We came upon his ship, the _Kraken_, near Madagascar. We didn't think anyone was aboard, so Bootstrap, Ruthie, and myself decided to take a bit of plunder from his vessel. Y'know, make a name for ourselves. What we didn't know was that the treasure we stole was cursed. Sangre had taken from the Sirens themselves. And the Sirens don't take kindly to being stolen from. They come into a man's mind and drive him mad, until he finally ends his own life, thus paying the debt that the Sirens demand." Jack drained his mug and set it down, leaning forward in his seat. Will and Elizabeth did the same. Mari, having heard the story before, didn't move, but her eyes were fixed on Jack, nonetheless.

"But, Sangre's debt was changed a bit, because his situation was rather unique. He didn't have all the treasure with him for the Sirens to claim when they forced him to suicide. So, the she-devils drove him to claim the blood of those who had taken their treasure. They demanded four souls, our three in addition to his. Well, ruddy bad for him, Ruthie died in fever and Bootstrap sent to the depths before he could claim either of them. So, for years, I was Sangre's only target. Until the Sirens discovered some of our secrets."

Here Mari shifted slightly as all eyes fixed on her.

"They found that both Bootstrap and Ruthie had progeny," she said softly. "It only made the situation sweeter that I was Sparrow's daughter as well. Sangre was told, then, not only to kill the thieves, but their blood as well." Mari gestured absently as she told the tale. "Jack and Bootstrap had taken me aboard the _Pearl_, when I was three, after Mum died. Seven years we ran from Sangre. By then, the crew had changed so much that it was no longer common knowledge that Jack and Bootstrap were being hunted, and neither did most of them know whose whelp I was.

"At any rate," Mari continued, "when I was twelve, the whole incident wi' Barbossa screwed the devil out o' everything. Jack was marooned; Bootstrap more'n likely dead, and me on Tortuga, carvin' my own reputation as the pirate Mari Cutlass."

"We think," Jack put in, "that Sangre lost the trail when we all split up. And I've heard that one curse confuses another. Handy little thing, that."

"Didn't work for long," Mari retorted. "Accordin' to you, he caught up to us in England, where he gave you a gift in lead. Two of 'em to be precise. I should know; I'm the one that carved them out of you before you handed me over to the British Royal Navy."

"It's easier to get away from the Navy than from Sangre. The Navy goes by rules. And with you in jail, I was the only one for Sangre to chase."

"You must have lost him eventually, though, because I just ran into him not long ago on me own vessel," Mari smiled a bit. "The _Crimson Cutlass_. Beautiful boat- I mean, ship. That's what happened to me leg. Twisted bloody son of a devil; he turned me hand so that I would impale meself, then came on me with a mace. He tossed me overboard, and I washed up on the shore. I managed my way into town unseen, and the rest...well, the rest you know."

"So, presumably, Sangre would be after me, as well?" Will asked quietly.

"Aye, mate. Sorry about that; I truly didn't know you were Bootstrap's boy. Should have guessed, though. You're just like him."

Will tossed Mari a weak smile.

"What happened to your ship?" Elizabeth asked the female pirate. "After you...left it, I mean."

Mari shrugged. "I imagine if Sangre didn't take it over, they kept to the code. No matter; I'll find them in any case. Determination is in me blood."

"Hereditary, that," Jack murmured proudly. Mari stretched languidly, fixing her gaze on the ceiling.

"Learned, that," she corrected. "From necessity." Jack opened his mouth to say something that undoubtedly would have begun another argument. Before he could, however, Will jumped in with a change of subject.

"The paper that Mari handed you earlier," he said quickly, "what was on it?"

Jack dug into his jacket to find the crumpled parchment and handed it to Will. Drawn precisely in the center was a black spot, exactly like those given to pirates marked for death. But, this spot was ever so carefully rimmed in dark red; it was not a red that could be made with ink. Will swallowed carefully.

"It's a blood promise," Mari explained, seeing the blacksmith's face. "A geas that Sangre must pay the whole of his debt before the Sirens end his madness. All of us would have been marked before long, and no doubt."

Will frowned. "Not all of us. Elizabeth isn't related to any of the thieves by blood. Why would Sangre want her?"

Here, Jack and Mari sent Elizabeth slightly amused looks.

"Waiting for the opportune moment, love?" Jack asked lightly. Elizabeth blushed.

"Now's as opportune as they get," Mari told her. Elizabeth clasped her husband's hand, and looked deeply into his eyes.

"I came into this family by marriage," she whispered, "but I still carry your blood." Elizabeth placed Will's hand on her abdomen.

"Will...I'm pregnant."  
  
  
  
**A/N:** Am I good, or am I just gooood? Heh, heh, how do you like my new lil plot twist? There's more to come, I assure you! Please, review me, :P  
  
Thank yous and hugs to my current reviewers: freak and proud, BlackJack, Takada Saiko, and SonofAnthronis and Samluvsbanana. I love to hear what you think!


	6. Enter the Villian

**Disclaimer:** Actually, I own everything in this chapter except the allusions to Jack Sparrow & Co. Samuel Sangre is a product of my own twisted imagination, and the Sirens I believe are part of the fair-use laws. :P  
  
**A/N:** This is rather short, but it's important to the plot. Freak and Proud, I promise there will be many more family spats, and also a few containing other potc chars as well! Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Samuel Sangre stood at the stern of his vessel, his eyes unhealthy yellow slits in his weather-beaten face. He stood like a severely twisted figurehead, his body straight and immovable, but strangely spoiled, dead. His clothing was ragged, his once-brown skin was tinged with grey, and the whites of his eyes were a putrid yellow. Sangre was on the knife-edge between life and death, truly belonging in neither world. He breathed in the clear night air, one single obsession driving him forward.

_I scent them, scent their blood. They are close._ The thin lips stretched into a parody of a grin.

_I will have them soon._ His nose told him that all of them were in one place, ripe for plucking...and juicing to the bones. His deck would run red with the zest of their torn veins, and at last he would be free. Free of the voices that plagued him, night and day.

_"Ssssweeeeet Ssssaaaangre, come to us! Touch us, Samuel, feed us!"_

The voices were maddeningly complemented by ghostly caresses along his jaw, icy fingers down his back. Cold breath puffed against his ear...but he could never see the ones who did these things. They were invisible to him, sounds and textures only. Some days they tortured him with longing, others they offered only pain. Twenty years he'd dwelt in this hell; he was ready to be done with it.

_And I'll take the bloody scoundrels to hell wi' me. They'll know what they've done, and they'll ruddy share in the suffering!_ He couldn't wait. He couldn't wait to wrap his hands about the Sparrow's neck, feel the bones crack beneath his hands. Then to slit his throat and watch the fear in his eyes as he drifted from this world to the next...Ahh. Yes. How sweet.

Sangre took another deep breath, scenting his kill, then directed his ship into a safe harbor, lowered a boat and rowed to shore. For once, the Sirens were silent. Perhaps they knew what was coming, and chose to watch rather than torment.

_I'll need your help, ladies, he whispered in his mind. You can have some fun..._

Hysterical giggling followed his proclamation, confirming the Sirens' assent. Sangre grinned. At last.


	7. Flight of the Sparrows And Some Other Pe...

**Disclaimer:** Captain Mari Cutlass and Captain Samuel Sangre are mine. I'm vying for custody of the others...however, my suitability as a guardian is being challenged. The nerve.  
  
**A/N:** Norry is back! Hehe....this chapter is kind of a filler...it's necessary, and funny...but I'm not sure there's point to it. Of course, we are talking about fanfiction...lol. Read it. :P  
  
  
  
Commodore Norrington paced the length of his office, unmindful of the late hour. Etched on his face was a thoughtful frown, the look in his eyes suspicious and contemplative. There was something more going on in the Turner house than a simple visit from a cousin. And the bat excuse...that was an insult to his intelligence.

Sparrow had to be hiding in that house...but how to capture him without entangling the Turners in the process? It wasn't that he cared all that much for Will; he was a good man, the Commodore supposed, but rather ineffectual to James's way of thinking. It was Elizabeth, and the good graces of her father, that he wished to protect. If only he could lure Sparrow into the open...

A sudden crash in the street drew Norrington to the window. His eyes opened wide as he watched four figures run across the road...four transparent figures. And they were headed directly toward Elizabeth's house. Norrington armed himself quickly, and dashed to the city proper after them, never thinking to call out the rest of the troops. His only thoughts were to save Elizabeth, and to catch that elusive Jack Sparrow. If the situation was kind, he would get the chance to do both.

"Y-you're pregnant?" Will whispered. Elizabeth smiled a little and nodded.

"I'm about a month along," she told him. "I wanted to be sure before I said anything."

"This is wonderful!" Will exclaimed, standing and drawing his wife into a passionate embrace. A pointed cough drew his attention back to the pirates that flanked them, both wearing amused expressions. The couple's elation abated somewhat, but Will refused to remove his arms from Elizabeth.

"Under normal circumstances mate, I'd be thrilled for you," Jack commented. "As it is, I'm glad to have confirmation that you're not a eunuch. But this just throws into further relief the value of haste if we're to avoid Sangre sacking your lovely home."

Mari, who had only kept one ear on the conversation, sat up suddenly from her lounging position, and squinted toward the foyer.

"Value of haste indeed," she muttered. "Your hearing's going, old man. There's already someone here."

Sangre moved with the swiftness and silence granted to him by the same forces that caused his insanity. Three transparent and shifting figures followed him with the silence of the dead, their bloodlust driving them to impossible speeds. A moderately-sized house attached to Turner's Blacksmithing loomed up before them. Sangre took a deep breath and grinned.

_Still there, waiting like sheep for the slaughter._

Norrington tracked the impossibly fast, silent party as well as he could for a few streets before he lost them. Choosing a different tack, he ran straight for the house, praying only that he'd get there before the enemy. He arrived at their door panting in a most undignified manner, but hardly cared. _Please, let me be here in time!_

He burst through the front door unannounced, knowing that his lack of decorum would be forgiven, given the circumstances. He ran into the front parlor, where he'd spoken to the Turner's this afternoon.

"There's someone already here," a voice intoned. It sounded like young Margaret Swann, but highly less aristocratic. She sounded almost...piratical. The Commodore's suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he burst into the room.

Seated at the far end was none other than Jack Sparrow, with Margaret Swann seated closest the doorway. He noted dimly that she no longer looked the noble young lady...but his focus at the moment was on the Turners.

"There are some very dangerous-looking scoundrels coming directly toward your house," he said without preamble. He fixed a superior glare on Jack. "More than likely coming for _him_."

"No, mate," Margaret said. She stood, and Norrington got the full effect of her unmistakably pirate demeanor. "They're coming for all of us."

"And now," Jack told him lightly, "that includes you." He grinned. "Funny ol' world, isn't it?"

Norrington's nostrils flared in rage, but the situation couldn't be helped, and he was no fool. Clearly, these distasteful characters meant the Turners no harm; rather the opposite.

"What course do we take?" the commodore asked tersely.

Jack got languidly to his feet. He wanted to taunt the officer in the worst way, but there would be time to gloat later. Right now, he had to concentrate on keeping everyone's blood flowing through their veins.

"We take the course that will lead us to my beloved _Black Pearl_," Jack said grandly, "From there...who knows? I'm making this up as I go."

"Invent faster," Margaret snapped. "We've got more company."

A cold wind invaded the room without warning, causing the candles to gutter dangerously. When the light flared bright again, the five allies were surrounded by grey ghouls. Jack, Mari, and Norrington had weapons in both hands very quickly. Another moment saw Will and Elizabeth armed with buccaneer weaponry. Not that it would do them much good. The creatures around them looked too insubstantial to be harmed by earthly weapons.

"Jack Sparrow," one of the ghouls said in greeting.

"Captain, it's Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack corrected lightly. "Been a while Sangre," he went on, "one would think you were growing soft."

Sangre stepped forward. "I grew bored with you, went on to more interesting prey." He looked at Mari. "How's your leg, my dear?" Mari twitched the limb in question, and smiled brightly.

"Feels wonderful. You're losin' yer touch, mate." Norrington frowned at this exchange, confused.

"Margaret?" he murmured.

"Mari, love. _Captain _Mari Cutlass, to be exact."

"Until her crew deserted her," Sangre said smugly. Mari rolled her eyes.

"I'd rather be crewless than undead," she told him. "That rotting flesh must itch something awful."

The other three living beings watched this exchange with something bordering amazement. Leave it to a Sparrow to hand sass to an angry, bloodsucking, undead ghoul. But there was another purpose to this as well. Sangre's full attention was now on the Sparrows, and thus, the attention of the Sirens focused on them as well. The four closed in on Jack and Mari, leaving Norrington, Will, and Elizabeth unnoticed. Will began edging his wife toward the door leading to the kitchens, Norrington cautiously following their lead.

"I mean, really, mate," Jack was saying, "is it not a bit disheartening that a pack of mere mortals has managed to elude you for...twenty years, is it? You would think, with all the powers that the Sirens say they have...." The captain's voice faded as the Turners and Norrington actually gained the kitchen!

"Unbelievable," Will whispered, "they haven't even noticed we're gone."

As if on cue, a shot rang out, then another, followed by a chorus of other- earthly screams.

"They have now, mate!" Jack said, entering the kitchen seconds after his daughter. "Run!"

The five streaked through the streets of Port Royal, Jack in the lead, Norrington bringing up the rear. Random items hurled themselves at the group, propelled by unseen forces. Streets cracked beneath their feet, threatening to swallow them. Several times, they had to leap wildly to avoid falling into voids, and once they reached the docks, the real fun began.

Planks bobbed violently beneath their feet as Jack directed them to a waiting dinghy. Hairline cracks crazed the surface of the wood, threatening to drop them into waters roiling with crushing power. Elizabeth went in first, followed by Will, then Mari.

"In, man!" Jack barked at Norrington. The commodore was about to refuse, when five looming shadows appeared at the edge of the town. Together, the two men leapt into the small vessel. Jack slashed the rope with his cutlass and dropped to a seat just as Will and Mari began to row. As soon as they were disconnected with the dock, the water stilled, the dinghy stopped pitching about, and a roar of rage shook the buildings of Port Royal.

"Why don't they chase us?" Elizabeth asked.

"The sea confuses them," Jack explained. "Leastways, that's what I suppose. I've never run into them on the open sea; only on or near land." As he spoke, he untied his bandana and began to wrap it about the commodore's eyes.

"I will thank you to take your hands off of me, Mr. Sparrow," Norrington said, holding Jack's wrist.

"And allow you to see where I've hidden me ship? Oh, that would be ruddy brilliant, mate."

"I will not be blindfolded!"

"Then you'll catch a right lovely cold swimming back to the port!"

"James," Elizabeth said tiredly, "cooperate, please. He just saved your life."

"Indeed _James_," Jack quipped, "you would do well to remember such favors." Resentfully, the commodore allowed the pirate to yank the worn, rather salty fabric, about his face.

"Rather suits ye, I think," Jack murmured. Snickers ran about the vessel. Norrington chose not to dignify the comment with a reply.

  
  
**A/N:** Thanks to all my reviewers....Freak and Proud I will most definitely take you up on that offer....hehe. And thanks also to TheDmntdFerret, Son-of- Anthronis, and Samluvsbanana.;)


	8. Squeaky Doors, Screaming, and Rum

**Disclaimer:** Disney owns it all, except for my lovely Mari and the evil Sangre. I wanted Jack to come over to my side, but I think my fervor drove him off...  
  
**A/N:** **Freak and Proud** and **squeakydoor**, this chappie is dedicated to you. Screaming and slammed doors for** freak**, and a very special line for **squeaky**. But everyone, please, enjoy and review!  
  
  
  
"Jack!" Mr. Gibbs exclaimed as the captain hauled himself over the rail. "We weren't expectin' ye back so soon! And with company, to boot!"

Will hoisted himself on deck, turning to help his wife.

"Hello, Mr. Gibbs," Elizabeth said genially. Will smiled at the man, and nodded a greeting.

"Why, if it isn't the Turners!" Gibbs said cheerfully. At a rather feminine grunt, he turned back toward the moored dinghy. Mari pulled herself aboard easily, looking about in a fashion that suggested apprehension.

"Mari Sparrow?" Gibbs said quietly. The young woman flicked him a glance, and swallowed.

"Cutlass, now, Mr. Gibbs. _Captain_ Cutlass."

The Commodore arrived last, only to be greeted by the tip of a sword.

"And who might this dandy be?" Annamaria asked. In the commotion of the captain's arrival, no one had noticed her slip up to the group. James stood taut; no longer blindfolded he could see exactly who threatened him, and that Jack seemed in no hurry to call her off. The captain only grinned lazily, eyeing the officer from beneath kohl-lined eyelids.

_He's enjoying this,_ the commodore realized. _He's milking every moment of my helplessness to his satisfaction._ Norrington returned Sparrow's gaze steadily, his upper lip curled in a classically British manner.

"Stow your weapon, Annie," Jack said at last. "The good Commodore is no prisoner of ours; only of circumstance. Meanwhile, get my beauty ready to sail! We ship out as soon as possible!"

The crewmen that had gathered to eye up the newcomers scattered like cockroaches suddenly exposed to light. The clink of the anchor chains and creak of shifting sails penetrated the night silence.

"Annamaria, Gibbs! Find the Turners and the Commodore accommodations; Captain Cutlass, to me," Jack ordered. He stood at ease until only he and Mari were left on the deck. Then, he sagged a bit, and pulled his hand from where he'd set it jauntily on his hip. It was covered in blood.

"I'll be needing your help, my lass," he said very quietly. Mari nodded and took his arm. She understood, as they made their way to his cabin, it wasn't kinship that had caused him to ask her help, but that she was the only one that knew he was injured. Jack Sparrow's pride was second only to his beloved ship.

Once the others were out of the Turner's parlor, Jack had fired at Sangre, distracting him for a moment. However, the ghoul reacted faster than Jack had calculated, and managed to send some lead of his own. The wound was only superficial, but painful, and bleeding like the dickens.

"You should have cared for this right away," Mari said sharply, applying a damp cloth to her father's torn flesh. "You might have bled to death, and left someone fatherless."

Jack winced as Mari pressed another cloth –this one dampened with rum- to the wound. She then applied a dry bit of cotton to his skin and began binding it fast.

"Aye," Jack agreed. "Wouldn't want to be leavin' the Pearl an orphan, savvy?"

He had thought himself quite witty with that remark; Mari, apparently, did not agree. Jack grunted as the woman tied off the bandage with more violence than strictly necessary.

"Why do you always do that?" she asked sharply. Jack looked at her quizzically.

"Do what?"

"Every time I try to talk to ye, you brush me off!"

"We were talkin' just a moment ago!"

"No, Jack. We were speaking, but we weren't talking."

"You take everything too seriously."

"And you don't take things seriously enough!"

Jack stood, wincing, and gripped the young woman's shoulders.

"What is it, exactly, that ye want from me?"

"I want a father, rather than a captain," Mari said evenly. Jack's eyes narrowed. "

I am yer father, lass. There's no changin' that."

"Yer my sire, never my father."

"What the ruddy blazes is that t' mean?" Jack's voice began to rise.

"Would a bloody hug have killed ye?" Mari asked, rather loudly.

"Pirates don't hug!" Jack exclaimed. "Pirates don't even say the _word_ 'hug' if they can avoid it!" Mari tore herself from his grasp and yanked the door open.

"Well then you can just sleep dandy, assured of your bloody pirate superiority!"

She left, closing the door with a slam, the hinges creaking dangerously. Outside, a group of crewmembers stood looking in askance at Mari's retreating back. Jack opened the door as if to follow her, looked at the group and scowled.

"What'er ye all gawkin' at? Back t' yer posts, ye worthless scallywags!" And the door slammed once again.

In the shadows near the rail, Will, Elizabeth, and Norrington stood with varying degrees of shock and concern on their faces.

"Good heavens," Norrington murmured. "Are they always like this?"

"It seems like the argument is an old one," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps we should try to talk to them?" She looked at her husband inquiringly.

"I don't know if that would help..." Will saw Elizabeth's pleading look and melted, "I'll take Mari, you take Jack."

"I have a feeling Mari isn't feeling particularly generous towards men at the moment," Elizabeth said gently. "Why don't we switch?"

"Because Jack is less likely to take a swing at you," Will muttered. Elizabeth smiled, and headed toward Jack's cabin.

  
Jack leaned back in his desk chair, a comforting bottle of rum clasped in his hand. He took a drink, relishing the burning sensation as it rolled down his throat. He closed his eyes, thinking, when he heard the door to his cabin open with a squeak.

"I really have to get the squeak out of that door," he said to his visitor.

"No one will come in unnoticed this way," a gentle voice said. Jack looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Elizabeth, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Elizabeth smiled at him and sat down in a spare chair.

"I thought you might want someone to talk to," she said. Jack looked confused.

"About what?"

"About Mari."

"You're a father, then?"

"No, but I'm a daughter. And one who won't hurl odd objects at you."

Jack smiled a bit. "Funny, I'm the one who taught her to aim." He took another swig of rum and offered it to Elizabeth. She shook her head.

"So, then, Liz," Jack said, very quietly, "would you like to inform me of what I'm doin' wrong?"

  
Mari, unbeknownst to her, sat in a position very similar to Jack's in her borrowed quarters, also holding a bottle of rum. After their spat, she'd headed directly to the food stores and commandeered a bottle. Jack still hid the best stuff in the same place.

"Mari?" The young woman looked up to see none other than Will Turner standing in her doorway.

"What can I he'p ye with, mate?" Will settled himself on a trunk near the desk, wondering how to approach the subject. Not only was Mari as unpredictable as Jack, she was a woman.  
  
"Has it always been this way between you two?" he asked carefully. Mari took a double gulp of rum and sighed.

"No we were fine for a while. Then I learned to speak in complete sentences." Her tone was bitter; she was still very angry. Will swallowed, knowing he was treading on paper-thin ice.

"What...happened?"

Mari's eyes narrowed. "What happened?" she snorted. "What happened," she rose and flung the door open, "was that Jack decided to," she stuck her head out the door, "_ACT LIKE A **CHILD** RATHER THAN TAKE **RESPONSIBILITY**!"_ She closed the door with a resounding bang and turned to Will. "That's what happened!"

  
Jack's head snapped up and he flung his own door open. Elizabeth followed him, worry marking her features.

"Jack, don't do anything-"

"Some people," Jack muttered, "_HAVE MORE RESPONSIBILITIES THAN ONE!_ _Some people BLOODY HAVE **CREWS **TO **CAPTAIN**!"_ He slammed the door in satisfaction.

"- you'll regret," Elizabeth finished lamely.

"_AND SOME PEOPLE,"_ came the rebuttal from Mari, _"BALANCE **CAREER** AND **PARENTHOOD**!_"

Jack made a another trip to the door, and stepped out on deck this time.

_"TRY IT SOMETIME!"_ he yelled. Mari stormed out to meet him.

"_I won't bloody have to because I don't sleep with everyone I see!"_

"Nor do I!" Jack said defensively. "Only...only the women!"

"Well, that's a ruddy relief!"

"This is why we can't have a conversation!" Jack said, waving his rum bottle about wildly. "You always have to bring out that _bloody SMART MOUTH_!"

"I wonder where _that_ comes from!"

Another crowd had gathered around the two, with Will and Elizabeth cringing near Jack's quarters, Norrington looking disgusted outside the circle, and poor Mr. Giibs attempting to get Jack's attention.

"Jack," he said carefully, "erm, Captain..."

Both turned to him at the same time.

_"WHAT?"_

Gibbs recoiled. Annamaria, behind him for moral support, looked vaguely amused. She stepped in front of the endangered man.

"We've spotted a ship not far behind us, sir," she said, trying not to smirk. "The moon caught its colors; a black spot on a field of red."

The whole ship grew silent; four stomachs did painful somersaults. Jack closed his eyes.

"He's catching up."


	9. He's Catching Up

**Disclaimer:** I OWN ALL!!!! MWHAHAHA!  
** Jack:** **'poke, poke'** Wake up, love.  
** Me:** Mmmnmfhua. What? Oh, crap. I own Mari. And Sangre.  
And I'm fighting for custody of Norrington's wig....

"The _Black Pearl._ Haven't seen that ship in...far too long." Sangre peered through his spyglass, thin lips stretching as he watched Jack and his daughter in their family turmoil. That was good; the more distracted they were, the better chance he had of catching them up. Finally. He pulled the spyglass from his eye, ignoring the strings of decay-ooze that followed the instrument from his face.

The Sirens, surprisingly quiet and reluctant to torment, were the only other beings aboard the ship. Sangre's crew, realizing their captain's horrible fate, had deserted as soon as they could long ago. Well, most of them. Some of them hadn't gone in time. Sangre's rotting eyes shifted to the skeletons hanging from the yardarm. All three had died at the hands of the Sirens, driven mad before they could desert life. Not that Sangre hadn't enjoyed the show; he just wished he could join them. _And take Sparrow with me._

More than anything, he wanted Sparrow's blood. That swaggering, arrogant peacock had caused him more grief... Sangre breathed deeply, regaining what passed for calm in his mind. They were close, now. That was all that mattered. They were close, and Sparrow and his brat weren't watching for him.

_Soon. Soon. Soon._

The Sirens gathered round him, watching the black sails of the _Pearl_ shift in the moonlight.  


Jack turned away from his inspection of their pursuer, raking his gaze over a crew that was still loosely gathered around him and his daughter.

"I want full sail open on this rig!" he shouted. "Man the guns; we may have a fire fight before the dawn greets us! Now, you scabrous dogs!"

Once again, the men scattered. They seemed to do that a lot. Norrington raised an eyebrow. Jack took a healthy swallow of rum before bestowing Mari with an exasperated side-glance. She looked back at him steadily, taking a good swig of her own.

"You lot," Jack said, gesturing with his rum. "My stateroom. I have the beginnings of a plan."

The Turners, Norrington, and Mari, followed by Gibbs and Annamaria filed into the spacious room. However, there were not quite enough chairs; Mari stood against the wall, shifting her wounded leg uncomfortably.

"Miss...Cutlass..." Norrington said hesitantly, "please." And he offered her his seat.

"A true English gentleman," Mari said, sitting gratefully. "But, it's Captain Cutlass, if ye please, love."

"Of course," Norrington muttered. Jack watched this exchange surreptitiously as the others settled themselves. He caught James' eye and gave him his second-best _Captain_ Jack Sparrow "look." _Keep yer eyes off me whelp, mate, savvy?_ The look said clearly. Norrington turned his gaze to the porthole in a most dignified manner.

"What's this plan of yourn, then, Captain?" Gibbs asked quizzically. Jack's plans tended toward the extreme side of insanity. Or brilliance, depending on your views.

"Sangre is after us because of some stolen treasure," Jack stated. "What if that treasure happened not to be stolen any longer?"

"What do you mean, Jack?" Will asked.

"What if we retrieved the commandeered booty and gave it back to Sangre?"

"There would be no reason for him to chase us any longer," Elizabeth said, her eyes bright with hope. "But, where is this 'commandeered booty' exactly?"

Jack's face scrunched up a bit. "'S not exactly all in the same place..."

"Tell us you didn't give it away to some Tortugan wench," Mari begged him. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Your good mum would have skewered me for lookin' at a wench, then, love."

"Then, where is it?"

"On the estate of the good Milo de Bordeaux. Most of it, anyway. My share."

"You gave it to a _Frenchman_?" Mari exclaimed. Everyone else looked rather shocked, as well. They had all heard Jack's speech about the French and raisins...

"I said it was on his estate, not that it was in the hands of Milo himself, savvy? I gave it to his...sister."

There was a collective groan. Jack's numerous and varied affairs were no secret; nor was his propensity to charm not only with words, but with small gifts that had wild stories behind how they were obtained. He'd never dreamed, of course, that treasure would get him into trouble. He should have known better after Barbossa.

"And my father's share? Where would that be?" Will asked.

"He gave it to yer mum, I know that much. Probably still in your former home, if it's still standing," Jack answered. He noticed Mari's look and raised eyebrow, and answered her question before she had a chance to ask.

"Ruthie took her portion with her when she left the _Pearl_. I imagine it's with her family." Jack tensed as he explained, drinking his rum afterwards as if to wash his mouth clean.

"Where are we to venture first, then?" Elizabeth asked.

"France," Jack said pulling out a nautical map. "And, once we get there, I think this is what we'll do..."

The group spent the rest of that long night huddled in Jack's stateroom, while the crew on deck desperately tried to outrun the _Kraken_.

"It's as if the very devil is behind 'em!" Marty the midget muttered.

"Dead men tell no tales," Cotton's parrot agreed. Red Pete, a cabin boy called thus because of the orange furze that served as his hair, watched the _Kraken_ with a dreading heart. Only sixteen, he'd seen his share of bloodshed aboard the _Pearl_, but had never encountered anything like this.

"D-do you think we can lose them?" he asked softly. Marty slapped the boy's elbow –as high as he could reach- companionably.

"If good Cap'n Sparrow could defeat a ship-full o' cursed, undead men, I think we can outrun one walkin' corpse, lad."

"Wind in yer sails!" Cotton's parrot called cheerfully. Red Pete watched the phantom vessel behind them, attempting to think of something else. Mari's face came to mind, and the boy smiled. He wouldn't mind at all if she decided to stay aboard. Of course, she claimed to be a captain of in her own right...and if she was really Jack's daughter...Red swallowed again. He'd rather face a thousand Sangres than Jack's wrath at someone flirting with his child.

A very loud boom brought the boy back to himself. A cannonball had just splashed into the water, far too close to the Pearl's hull.

"Men to your battle stations!" Marty yelled. Cotton's parrot fluttered wildly as Cotton rushed to a cannon. Red, not knowing what else to do, rushed to the captain's state room. He yanked the door open without preamble, ignoring the surprised looks and the searing glare of his captain.

"Sir!" he said breathlessly, "We're under attack!"  
  


**A/N:** Cliffhanger! Hehehe. does cliffhanger dance, almost falls off the cliff Um, yeah. Please review!!


	10. Demon Storm

**Disclaimer:** They _could_ be mine! They _should_ be mine! Give them to me!!  
**Borimir:** Wrong bit of cinema. And that's my line, too!  
**Me:** Meh. You're dead anyway. But, I own nothing but Mari, Sangre, and a cute lil puppy named Tito.  
  
  
  
A loud boom confirmed Red's frantic warning, drawing the conspirators on deck. Maniacal little sparks rose from the water where the cannonball splashed down, sparking tiny fires all over the _Pearl's_ deck. Jack pronounced a curse that made Gibbs cringe, and began stamping at the nearest flame.

"Out wi' the oars!" he screamed, "those who aren't rowing, man the guns and put out these bloody blasted fires!" Jack turned back to the crowd behind him, real rage showing even in the darkness.

"Off wi' you!" he said, and sprinted toward the wheel. Annamaria, Gibbs, and Mari sprinted below to gather muskets and shot, if it came to close combat. _Not, Mari thought dryly, that mortal weapons will do us much good. Bloody pirates_. A minor row in her wake, however, made her halt.

"I will not!" Elizabeth was saying. "I'm as safe on deck as I would be in that bloody stateroom, especially if the ship catches fire!"

"I need to know you're out of the immediate line of fire!" Will said strongly. Rarely did he argue with his wife; but this was her life they were discussing. Hers, and that of their child.

"He's right, Elizabeth," Norrington put in. The two glared at him and he back away.

"There's a cannon that needs manning, if ye please," Mari murmured in the commodore's ear.

"I never dreamed I'd be aiding the cause of a pirate," Norrington muttered back.

"Every day's a new adventure, ain't it, mate?" Mari quipped, and turned to the quarreling couple.

"Here," Mari said, and handed Elizabeth a pistol and extra shot. "I can get another, and make certain ye've got a musket if ye want one. Shoot out o' the porthole if it makes ye happy. But the stateroom's secure, and ye've not got just yourself to be thinking of."

Elizabeth looked from Will's pleading eyes to Mari's no-nonsense expression, accepted the proffered weaponry, and went into the stateroom. Will turned to Mari with wide eyes.

"How did you do that?"

"Sometimes the only person a woman will listen to is another woman. Red!" Mari turned away from Will abruptly and clasped the young man's arm, carefully so as to not spill his armload of muskets and cannon shot.

"Hole up in the stateroom with Mrs. Turner; we've got more than enough to manage out here." With downcast eyes and an embarrassed expression, the young man did as he was told, handing the bulk of the weapons to Mari and Will. Mari hefted a box of chain shot with a grim smile.

"Ready to face the undead?" she said cheerfully.

"Indeed; I should begin to expect this, I suppose, when your father comes calling."

"You'd better join him at the helm; watch his back and ensure that he doesn't do anything...stupid."

Will nodded, biting his tongue with laughter at how much she sounded like Jack. His jovial mood faded, however, with the next blast, followed by a Siren scream. "

Please God, let us live through the night," he muttered, and moved toward the helm. 

Norrington fired off his cannon with gusto, curiously enjoying the sensation. Perhaps it was because he knew his enemy was wholly unredeemable...

"Down!" A female voice shouted, and shoved him to the deck. Grape shot skimmed over his head, nearly singeing his wig. He turned to find Mari's slight form crouched against his own, her face turned toward the sky.

"I thank you, madam," Norrington said formally. Mari only nodded.

"I don't like the look o' that sky," she said quietly. Norrington followed her gaze; storm clouds were forming over the scarlet, nascent dawn, roiling into an angry squall. They covered the sun, simulating an extended night.  
  
"Couldn't we lose them in the storm?" the commodore asked. Mari grinned fiercely.

"Ye think like a pirate, mate. And we might, if this were an ordinary storm. Somehow, I don't think that it is."

The ship pitched, then, sending Mari rolling toward a bit of rail that was no longer there. Norrington dug his fingers into her belt, pulling her into him and out of danger.

"We're even, then," Mari muttered. The choppy sea was a prelude to the storm; a storm of which they were aiming for the very heart.

"We're going into _that_?" Will said incredulously. He stood his ground by Jack's side, musket clutched firmly in his hands. He eyed the squall with infinite dislike before turning the look on Jack.

"Aye, mate. If the sea confuses curses, what'll a storm do, savvy?"

"This is either brilliance or madness."

"Odd how often those two traits coincide. And if you've got any better ideas, I'd love to hear them." Jack paused. "Where's dear Mrs. Turner?"

"In your stateroom, with Red."

"And...Captain Cutlass?"

Will noted the hint of concern mingled with regret in his voice, and repressed a sigh. I_ hope my father-child relationships aren't this complicated. Perhaps I should pray for a boy._

"At the cannons. She's a capable woman, Jack."

Jack began to answer, but his voice was stolen away by the wind. They had entered the edge of the squall, with the _Kraken _in hot pursuit. 

Mari loaded a bit of chain shot into a cannon, a burst of joy rushing through her as it found its mark in the _Kraken's_ hull. She glanced at Norrington, who had a fiercely determined grin plastered onto his face. _Remove the wig and the waistcoat,_ Mari thought, _and he could easily be one of us. What are you hiding beneath that crimson veneer, Commodore?_

At another blast from the opposing end, Mari fixed her attention on Sangre, cursing harshly. No matter how much damage they did to the _Kraken_, she still came on, following them like...

Like a vessel cursed.

The woman reloaded quickly, her mind turning for an idea. _We outran him for nigh on seven years tossin' on the sea. He's never tracked us over open ocean before. What's different?_ She gritted her teeth, unused to being idealess. _Everything's gone to the ruddy devil's armpit ever since that bloodspot and Tortuga..._

Something clicked. The bloodspot! He was using it to track them! Mari lurched to her feet, surging away from the cannons. Norrington shouted after her, but his voice was carried away by the wind. Jack had the bloodspot. She had to get to him and claim that (literally and figuratively) bloody scrap of parchment.

Unsteadily, even with her sea- legs, the woman made her way to the wheel. Jack stood tall and proud, facing the wind, with a sodden, miserable Will standing next to him. The boy clearly knew nothing about muskets, or he would have dropped his by now. No gun would fire in this terrible wet.

"Jack!" Her voice, a sea-captain's voice, cut through the noise. Jack's head turned.

"What's happened?" Jack shouted back. Mari jerked to a halt in front of the wheel and gestured to his belt pouch.

"The spot!" she shouted.

"The sot?" Jack shouted back, confused. Mari scowled, and opened the pouch herself. She yanked out a soaked bit of paper.

"The _spot_!" she repeated, waving it in his face. Jack, coming to the same conclusions as his daughter, nodded emphatically.

"Give it back to him!" Jack suggested gaily. Mari grinned into the rain, and slithered back to the cannons. Yanking off her bandana, she tied the spot to a cannonball and stuffed it in the gun Norrington manned.

James watched her antics skeptically, wondering if she'd suddenly gone as daft as her father. _She has, indeed, _he told himself. _Gone as mad as the best pirate in the ocean._ He fired off the gun. A lead ball bearing a slightly singed blue covering sailed into the angry sky, and then fell out of it...

...Directly into the deck of Sangre's vessel. A tri-pitched scream sliced the howl of the wind to bits, sending everyone on the Pearl to the deck, clutching their ears in pain. But it worked.

The _Kraken's_ form seemed to dwindle as the storm carried the _Pearl_ away from her. The shrieks continued for a long while, but when they stopped, the skies were clear and the _Pearl _was alone.  
  


**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed Mari's bit of mental prowess. No worries; more char. development and family rows in the future. I promise!


	11. Much Ado and Rum

**Disclaimer:** I own Mari, Sangre, and the _Crimson Cutlass_. Nothing more nothing less, so stop rubbing it in! cries

**A/N:** Not much physical action in this, but some relationships are redefined. Lots of talking, and lots of rum! Good times, good times. To **Samluvsbanana **and **Son-of-Anthronis**: Look kids! Alcohol! To **squeakydoor**; Norrington's wig is suing for a larger role. **FreakandProud** lots of yelling in the next chappie, I promise. Hint: it involves a jail cell!

The crew stumbled to their feet slowly, as men waking from a terrible dream. Squinting at the clear skies and glass-like ocean, they began repairs to the _Pearl_ in silence. No one was steady on their feet, except perhaps, Jack, but who could tell the difference?

Will staggered to Jack's stateroom and flung open the door. Furniture had been flung about mercilessly, along with extinguished candles and, apparently, Will's wife. She and Red lay along one wall, unconscious. Will went to Elizabeth's side and shook her gently.

"Mmm..." she groaned, touching her head carefully. She met Will's eyes. "You were right; it was safer in here," she murmured. Will grinned and was about to reply when Elizabeth's expression grew frantic. She clutched her stomach and ran out of the room. Moments later, retching could be heard, overlaid by surprised protests. Jack appeared the doorway.

"Looks like she missed the rail completely," he commented. "There'll be no living with her during this, mate. Red, lad!"

The boy sat up groggily and eyed his captain.

"Ye've a mess to clean up on deck. Hop to!"

"Aye, sir," the boy muttered, and did as he was told. He nearly collided with Mari, who was guiding a very pale Elizabeth by the arm. Norrington was close behind, his eyes passing from one to the other, a perplexed frown just marking his features.

"Thank you, dear Liz, for the colorful deck-washing," Jack said with a mock bow.

"Morning sickness," Elizabeth explained. "Sorry, Jack."

"No worries! You're not the first to mark my _Pearl._ And it's not as if I have to clean it up."

"The storm probably didn't help, at all," Will said sympathetically, drawing his wife close. She leaned her head on his shoulder and allowed her eyes to drift closed. Mari examined the sky, dark eyes suspicious.

"We've lost him for the moment," she said quietly, "but who knows if he's another way to find us?"

"You need to learn how to relax, my lass," Jack slurred. "There's little we can do until we reach France. Why don't we celebrate the _Pearl's_ latest victory with a drink?"

"Thank you, no," Mari said tightly, and extricated herself from the group. A glance at the Turners gave Jack their answer, as Will was basically holding Elizabeth upright. She was muttering something about bloody pirates and their bloody ships that couldn't bloody hold still.

Undaunted, Jack turned gaily toward the commodore.

"How 'bout it, old Jim?" he asked, throwing an arm around Norrington's shoulders. "A pint with your new ally?"

"I'll thank you to refer to me as 'Commodore,' Captain Sparrow, and to refrain from unnecessary familiarity," Norrington said stiffly. Jack removed his arm with a blithe expression.

"However," the commodore continued, "after such events, even the most decorous would feel in need of some...fortification. Lead on, Captain, and I shall follow."

Jack opened his mouth, but James cut off his comment with two words.

"For now."

"Now, Commodore," Jack began leaning boneless against the rail, "surely you don't mean to stretch the neck of a man who has –more than once- pulled your noble rump out of the fire, as it were?" He knocked back a generous swig of alcohol. "It would seem such actions would be working at cross purposes. Also, a pirate can make a most...indispensable ally, savvy?"

"But a pirate's word can be most dispensable, indeed."

"Aye, I'm a dishonest man. But, James," Jack leaned toward the other man, "have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?"

Norrington thought about that. True, Jack was despicable, dishonest, and a pirate. But he had never, in the commodore's presence, shown himself to be untrustworthy. Norrington took a sip of his own drink. It rolled in a ball of fire down his throat; valiantly, he held a cough behind his teeth.

"_Why_ do you and your daughter find this beverage so appealing?"

Jack gulped rum mightily. "Hard to think when yer stomach's afire, mate."

"And that's to mean that there's a great deal to avoid thinking about?"

"Aye, for me, leastways."

"I suspect Mari has much the same dilemma."

Jack barked a laugh. "She, sirrah, is the captain of her own vessel, has never had a mutiny, and is quickly garnering more fame than ever I imagined having, all at the age of twenty. What is there for her not to think about, pray tell?"

"Her rather lackluster relationship with her father, for one."

"She knows I've more pride for her than could fill these seas," Jack replied, gesturing with his rum. Norrington gave him a thoughtful glance.

"Have you ever told her? With words."

"Actions speak louder than words, mate."

"And what actions have you taken to impress upon her your admiration and –I daresay- love for her?"

"Does this line of interrogation have anything to do with your own quickly developing admiration for my whelp? I've seen the looks you send her way, mate. Best to tread softly, lest ye find a cannon strapped to yer heels."

"Perhaps if she knew you felt so strongly about her welfare as to threaten a commodore of the British Royal Navy, fewer of your conversations would end in argument."

"Yer sayin' I'm a bad father, then?"

"I am saying, Captain Sparrow, that you are a good enough man that that woman wants to try to _be_ her father. As for my feelings toward her...they are my business until and if I choose to express them."

The two men stood in silence for a moment, eyes locked inextricably. The battle lines between them eased, then, into a thin wire of mutual respect. Jack slapped Norrington's shoulder companionably.

"Y'know something, old Jim, we're not so different, you and I. We're only opposite sides of the same coin, as it were."

"I do hope, Mr. Sparrow, that you are not inferring that I am the tail of said coin."

"Don't have to say what's said for me. And it's _Captain_, Captain Sparrow, if ye please."

"I thought you deferred a celebratory drink," Will commented, coming alongside Mari where she stood near the prow. She examined her rum bottle and shrugged.

"Who says this is celebratory, mate? Shouldn't you be with your nauseous bride?"

"Right now she's unconscious as well as nauseous. And beginning to blame me for her discomfort."

"'Tis yer fault, lad, when ye think of it."

"She had a part in it, as well," Will quipped. Mari sipped her rum and grinned.

"Say that to her. Only, just make certain I'm there when ye do. I want to say 'I told ye so' while I watch Red mop up the gore."

Will grimaced, realizing the probable truth of Mari's words. Elizabeth was sweet and gentle, but strong-minded. However, that will had saved his life more than once, so he was glad of it. Usually.

"You remind me of someone I used to know," Will said suddenly, looking at Mari closely. Mari cocked an eyebrow.

"Who'd that be, mate?"

"A girl that stayed with us, the summer before my mother died. It was the only clear memory I had of my father- he brought the girl to us, explaining she was the orphan of a friend and left again. Her name was Margaret Gull; we were inseparable. We even-" Will paused, grinning.

"Go on, mate," Mari encouraged, "ye can't shock me. I promise."

Will laughed a bit. "We became 'blood brothers'," he said, rolling up his sleeve. On his left forearm was a thin, white scar. Mari examined it wide-eyed for a moment, and set her rum bottle on the deck. Silently, she rolled up her right shirtsleeve. There was a thin, white scar, identical to Will's.

"Bill took me off right before the mutiny," she said quietly. "He gave me a new name, the chance at a new life. I can't believe I didn't remember it until this very moment."

Will's dark eyes grew wide. "_You're_ Margaret Gull?"

"Aye. I was, at least. I suppose both of us had a harrowing journey after that; no time to remember child's promises."

Will shook his head. "No; I suppose we both forgot our promise of that summer." He looked in the direction if his and Elizabeth's cabin.

"Would you change anything?" he asked, very quietly. Mari took a swig of rum.

"There are a great many things I would change, Will, lad, but that's not one of them. You and dear Liz are deliriously content with one another. Poseidon is my only lover."

Will stared out at the ocean for a moment, thinking. He thought of all the events that had brought him here, to this moment. He thought of Elizabeth sleeping peacefully; his wife, the mother of their child. He tried to imagine Mari in her place.

Will laughed out loud.

He looped an arm about Mari's shoulder in a very Jack-like gesture and grinned.

"So, then," he said, briskly changing the subject. "Tell me about my father."

Mari swigged some rum, and searched for a place to begin.

"Well, dear Will, I first met him when I was just a wee lass..."

**A/N:** Yes, I know, I cut it off. But that whole story will be outlined in _The Sparrow's Flock_ eventually. It's a tactic I use to force ppl to read all of my work! MWHHAHAHAHA!! Ahem. Please review.


	12. A Flying Wig and Its Uses

**Disclaimer:** The French ppl are mine, as well as Mari and Sangre. I cannot, alas, claim to own anyone else from this tale. pouts

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up!! The truth is, there was a dearth of reviews, and it was slow going b/c I though you ppl had lost interest. :( However, I got a multitude of feedback this morning, so thank you all!! Especially **FreakandProud**! She and **BlackJackSlvr** have been w/ me from the beginning. Ah, I do love my fan base....

Sangre curled on the deck, knees tucked into his shrunken chest, sallow face pressed against filthy greatcoat sleeves. The screaming, that shrieking torture, had been going on for days. Possibly weeks. Occasionally, the torture was varied with physical anguish, but not often. The Sirens preferred madness as their specialty, and it suited them well.

"Stop!" he screamed over and over again. "Stop it, please!"

Perhaps it was the 'please' that made them halt. Samuel Sangre never pleaded for anything. The trio of supernatural femmes stood over him, arms akimbo, glowing eyes narrowed menacingly. One crouched down to whisper in his ear.

"You've failed us. Again." The hiss sent sharp shudders down his spine.

"Twenty years, Samuel Sangre," the second Siren purred. This voice forced his muscles to spasm and cramp. He whimpered.

"And two are lost to us, now," the third said, angrily. Her voice caused his mind to cloud and whirl, making it difficult to think and causing him an immediate headache. She knelt and gripped his chin in icy fingers, her flesh smelling of rain and sea. She forced his eyes to lock with hers, grey-blue orbs that seemed to pierce his soul.

"Two decades we have been bound to you," she rasped. "We are tired. This ends quickly, you superfluous mortal, or we shall end you. And you will not," her lips briefly touched his ear, "be released into death. If you considered what we've wrought on you torment, dear Captain, you were wrong. This is only a _fraction_ of what we're capable of."

The three stood and circled him, like a pack of wolves waiting for the strike. Sangre faced them on his knees, wondering what he could do or say to prolong his chances a bit longer. Suddenly, his head snapped up, and he breathed deeply.

"Land. Three of them have touched land...the _Black Pearl_ is docked." He looked up at his tormentors, yellow eyes and grey mouth softening to a sly expression.

"We can have them as quickly as you like, ladies."

Will exited the cabin he and Elizabeth shared, carrying a tray that still held most of the food he'd brought her in the first place. Even docked, a ship will roll with the waves, a fact that had grieved the Turners (and, in fact, the rest of the crew; especially poor Red) to no end. Elizabeth's episode of undignified "deck washing" had been repeated any number of times in the last weeks, at last ending when a trio of buckets were employed to be switched off as they were needed. The only good thing about this thus far, Will thought, was that the nausea was an excuse for his wife to put aside discomfiting skirts for some garb borrowed from Annamaria.

Will paused in his musing abruptly as something white flew over his head. At first, he thought it was a drunken seagull. But the thing passed over again, its shape having nothing birdlike about it. A third time, the object was flung into the air, accompanied by raucous, piratical laughter. It was then that Will identified the flying object.

"Commodore Norrington's _wig_?"

"Indeed."

Will spun about to see a stiffer-than-usual Commodore eyeing his aviating hairpiece. Sweat on his brow and deep breaths showed Will that Norrington had only recently given up on catching the thing. His own longish brown-and-silver hair proved to be excellent entertainment for the ocean breeze. Norrington shoved the strands out of his face impatiently.

"Actually," he told Will thoughtfully, "I hate the cursed thing. My attempts to reclaim it were on principle, only."

James' eyes held a twinkle of amusement. "This is really rather entertaining."

The object in question was made airborne once again, this time spinning before descending to the deck. Jack, who had been watching the entire scene with undisguised mirth, rescued the wig from his crewmen, holding it delicately between finger and thumb.

"Better not be damaged!" he told Red, and a man named Mr. Sweet. "We're going to need this little wanker."

With that, Jack plopped the thing down on Will's head.

"What the-" Will reached up to remove the wig, deterred by Jack's slapping his hand away.

"It's a disguise, mate. We can't exactly go into the Manor de Bordeaux as we are now, savvy? I think it makes you look rather dashing, really."

"I think it makes him look like a fop," a disgruntled feminine voice interjected. The three men turned, and stood gaping.

Mari stood before them, dressed in Elizabeth's discarded gown. Her russet hair was immaculately coiffed, a fan clutched in gloved fingers. Her lips had even been rouged. She looked every inch the haughty noble lady, her expression only serving to complete the illusion.

"Not one word," Mari warned. "From any of you." And she stalked away, skirts clutched angrily in one fist.

"She looks..." Norrington began.

"...Like her mother," Jack finished softly. Will blinked.

"Well, lad," Jack said hastily, slapping Will on the back. "We'd best hop to, ay?"

"The three of you cannot go to shore alone!" Elizabeth said frantically. She followed Will as he placed supplies in the dinghy, bending stiffly in the commodore's uniform.

"Jack said it himself; Sangre tracks better on land! You'll be as good as letting him have you!" She clasped Will's arm, and he turned, shocked at the tears rimming his wife's eyes. He gathered her close, resting his chin on her hair.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," she whispered. Will kissed his wife's forehead, gently.

"We'll only be gone a day and a night; less, if Jack has any say in it. Nothing will happen to us, my love."

Elizabeth did not respond verbally; she only clutched Will more tightly. Once, she would have reveled in the adventure, but now...now she wanted only to go home. Each passing day saw her more pregnant than the last; she was three months along now, and beginning to show.

Jack and Mari strode up then (well, in Mari's case, minced disagreeably), to place the last of their supplies in the longboat. The commodore, standing close by, handed Mari into the dinghy with practiced grace. Elizabeth hugged the young woman, then turned to Jack.

"You bring him back, Captain Sparrow," she whispered. "And yourself, as well."

"Have I ever broken a promise to you, dear Liz?" Jack murmured back with an irreverent grin. "I am a man of my word."

The three rowed quickly to shore under cover of darkness, as the _Black Pearl_ sailed to a less conspicuous position. They then his the boat carefully (but not so carefully that they would not find it again) and made their way to the doors of Milo de Bordeaux's seaside manor.

Jack, looking quite the gentleman divested of his jangling oddments and eye paint, knocked imperiously on the entryway with his "swagger stick." Mari and Will hung back, similarly disguised, Mari's arm looped through Will's. Mari could feel the tension in the young man, as if he were lightning-struck. _He's not certain this will work._ Mari smiled to herself. _Neither am I. But I've gotten away with worse._

The door opened, revealing a rectangle of yellow light, and a rather groggy-looking footman. He peered through the door at them, slightly confused.

"Who'er you?" he asked, in slurred French. Jack stiffened as if affronted, and answered him in totally unaccented, highborn French.

"I, Monsieur, am Jacob Gull, a representative of the Dutch West Indies Company," (the company was totally fictitious) "and these" –gesturing vaguely over his shoulder- "are my noble progeny, _Captain_ Willard Gull, and the Lady Margaret Gull. We were on our way to the docks, when our caravan was ransacked."

Mari pretended to swoon; Will fanned her attentively. Jack, eyeing them with feigned nervousness, leaned toward the footman conspiratorially.

"Horrible ruffians; we're lucky we weren't killed. However, though our lives have been preserved, our comfort was somewhat compromised. Happily, we stumbled upon this lovely holding, and hoped to discover asylum within its walls."

The footman examined them for a moment. Mari simpered at him; Will (who didn't speak French) looked as stiff and noble as possible, giving the man a grave nod. Jack merely stared back at the servant, his normal, unsteady stance looking like poise.

"You may enter," the footman said, standing aside. Jack grinned and ushered his "children" inside before him.

"Wonderful! My eternal thanks to you, good man. Pray, who is the proprietor of these estates?"

"Lord Milo de Bordeaux, Monsieur Gull. I shall, of course, inform him of your presence immediately. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

The footman gestured toward a grouping of overstuffed furniture positioned near the back of the foyer. Jack put on a disarming golden grin.

"Many thanks, my good man!"

The three went over to the chairs, Will handing Mari into one before either man seated himself. As soon as the footman was out of sight, Jack sprawled lazily and grinned.

"Well, mates, this seems to be going off without a hitch!" he said cheerfully. Mari raised an eyebrow.

"Things are rarely 'hitchless' in these cases," she said dryly. "What if de Bordeaux's sister shows up?"

"Ah, Juliette is probably married with a brood of French pups by now. Besides, if she _were_ still here, do you really think she'd recognize me?"

"I don't know, Jack," Will said softly. "You have one of those faces."

"What sort of face would that be, lad?"

"Apparently, the sort women feel the need to chastise."

Mari smiled widely at this, knowing well her father's talent for garnering female slaps. Jack rolled his eyes, then lowered his eyelids in a sly look.

"In any case, mate, that's why you're here."

"What? Jack..." Will gave the pirate a warning look. Jack only smiled.

"Yer prettier than I am, lad. More...eye-catching, as it were. If Juliette _is_ still cavorting about, odds are she'll notice you before she notices me. 'Twas always the way with your dad. Couldn't take him anywhere."

"S-so...you expect me t-to _seduce_..." Will began, spluttering angrily. Mari wore a longsuffering look. Jack waved his hands, forestalling Will's babble.

"I don't expect ye to seduce anyone, lad. Yer a married man, wi' a whelp on the way. No; I just want you for...eye-candy. Wi' that sharp tongue, I'm sure you can distract anyone while the lass and I get what we came for."

"So, I'm to pilfer this treasure while you two dissemble, no doubt?" Mari asked. Jack shook his head.

"No, lass. Ye're here to help me keep me head in this place. It's worse than the minotaur's maze; ye've the best head for navigation I've yet seen. I can find the treasure, but I need you t' get me out again."

Jack ended there, rather abruptly, neglecting to mention the manor's confusing passageways had nearly been his downfall, last time. Milo had not been happy with the young rogue seducing his sister, and intended to extract his vengeance from Jack's flesh. It had been by luck only that Jack had found his way out of the labyrinthine corridors at all.

At that moment, a door opened at the far end of the hall, and a tall, balding man strode through, accompanied by a retinue of servants. Jack didn't need to tell his companion who this man was. It was quite obvious Milo de Bordeaux was going to attend to them personally.

"Ah, Monsieur Gull, I presume?" he said grandly, in heavily accented English. Will couldn't tell if the man's disuse of his native tongue was out of consideration or arrogance. His attitude could have suggested either.

The three rose and made the proper obeisance.

"You are correct, my Lord de Bordeaux," Jack said gravely, pretending not to notice the affront. Or, the looks Milo was giving his daughter, for that matter.

"We were hoping," Will said, stepping neatly in front of Mari before her glares caught de Bordeaux's attention, "that we could-"

He was stopped by a wave of de Bordeaux's be-ringed hand.

"Yes, yes, my footman has told me all about it. I would be happy to give three such distinguished persons asylum in my home for the evening."

Jack smiled to himself. _In other words, he's going to try and weasel a trade agreement out of us. _

"My sister and I would be delighted for the fresh conversation of new company," Milo continued. All three companions froze.

"Your sister?" Mari inquired politely. "She lives here with her husband, does she? I should be delighted for another woman's company."

"Ah, she will like the company as well!" Milo said exuberantly. "Yours as well as the gentlemen's, Mademoiselle. Juliette is, alas, still searching for a man to capture her heart."

**A/N:** Ohhhh.....Something tells me Jack is in TROUBLE now!! Hehehe. I love that. Elizabeth fans, no worries. Her part gets bigger later on. And, I apologize b/c I said there was going to be a row in here and there isn't. Well, it took me longer than I thought to set up for it, but how sweet it will be, savvy?

Also, for those of you who read _An Officer and A Gentleman_ and are slightly confused, wait for it. All will be explained in time.


	13. Out of the Proverbial Frying Pan

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own Jack. Nor do I own Will, Liz, Norrington, or the _Black Pearl_. Life is terribly unfair and the only way I am enduring any of this is that Mari is my character, and mine alone. Ta.

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken me SO VERY LONG to update. College is a lot more stressful than I first imagined, and even my weekends have viciously been taken over. Thus, I hope you will forgive me; I will try and update everything over Thanksgiving. But I make no promises.

Jack was in trouble. Jack _knew_ he was in trouble. But he didn't show that he knew he was in trouble. Milo obviously didn't recognize him; he had only to hope that Juliette failed to remember him as well.

A young servant led the three to their suite, Jack swaggering jauntily in front of Will and Mari. _If looks could kill,_ he thought, feeling his companions' glares, _I would be dead and in pieces. Of course, I might end up that way still, if Juliette's memory proves too sound._

Once the servant had settled them, and bowed out of the apartments, Jack's companions –predictably- turned on him.

"You're plan, it seems, is already backfiring, Jack," Will said, none too pleased. Mari contented herself with an angry glare and an attempt at loosening her corset. Jack stretched languidly, falling backward onto a couch and settling his feet upon a nearby table.

"Have I ever given either of you a reason not to trust me?"

"Pirate," Mari snapped.

"Pot calling the kettle black, love."

"I never claimed to be honest, nor trustworthy."

"I know I'm a dishonest man, my lass."

"Dishonesty and trust don't generally go hand in hand."

"You ask a ship-full of men to trust you everyday, my lass."

"Now who's being hypocritical?"

Will stepped between the two, as Mari began to unlace a shoe.

"Can we _please_ focus on the matter at hand? We need to have a plan at getting that treasure back, so we can get the devil out of here! Jack," the young blacksmith faced the pirate stiffly, "what does it look like?"

Jack shifted a bit and grinned. _Lad's finally growing something resembling a spine..._

"'S a necklet, of red gold, strung wi' black pearls." He grinned. "Make it easier to remember me by."

Mari muttered something –blessedly- inaudible.

"So it'll likely be in her chambers?" Will demanded. Jack nodded.

"Aye. 'Less she sold it, or some such."

Mari growled deep in her throat. Both men regarded her with wary gazes. Seeing the caution on Jack's face –_Jack's_ face- Will realized just how dangerous Mari was capable of being. And Jack, undoubtedly, was the one who taught her to be that way.

Will was suddenly very glad those two were on his side.

At the moment, at least.

"You, Will, lad, will have to distract Milo, and especially Juliette, while the lass and I liberate her accursed property."

"And how am I to do that?" Will asked, nonplussed. Jack grinned, teeth glinting.

"I'm certain you'll think of something."


	14. And Into A Rather Real Fire

**Disclaimer:** I own not Jack, nor Will, nor any other characters herein save Mari and Sangre.

**A/N:** Apologies for not updating in so long. I emailed myself the wrong files when I went home for holiday. Stupid comp.

Sangre sat in his longboat, eyes fixed on the shore. The vessel moved through the water smoothly, and without his aid. Three dark figures floated port, starboard, and stern, humming softly. For once, their music caused Sangre no pain. The Sirens were convinced they'd have their prey, now that it was so close. But, it had been close before, closer than this, and they had lost it.

_Don't think about that! _Sangre ordered himself. They had no idea he was coming, this time, and the element of surprise was everything. He grinned sickly as they passed right beneath the _Black Pearl's _figurehead. At last, the hunt would be over. At last his debt to the Sirens would be paid.

At last, he would be free.

Elizabeth stood at the stern of the _Pearl_, gazing at the shore. Suddenly, she shuddered as if cold. She felt as if someone had just slid an icy hand down her spine, yet she was alone. She put a hand over her slowly growing stomach, rubbing absentmindedly.

"Did you feel that, little one?" she asked. Suddenly, something within her fluttered. Elizabeth gasped. The baby moved again, kicking hard. Elizabeth pressed both hands to her stomach, in wonder and fear. The baby had moved for the first time, and it seemed…frightened? Could children be frightened in the womb, or was it her imagination? The child kicked again, seemingly in frustration.

"All right, all right," Elizabeth soothed, patting her abused womb. "I can tell, you think something's wrong, too." _Kick_. "Don't worry, papa will be fine." _Kick, kick._ Another shudder rushed down Elizabeth's spine. No denying it, this time. Something was most definitely _wrong_.

The young woman looked up just in time to see a shadow pass right by the _Pearl_. No, it was more than a shadow. It was _four_ shadows, and darker than any shadow had a right to be. Elizabeth gasped, her stomach tightening as she ran to find Annamaria and Norrington.

Jack, Will, and Mari entered the dining hall with butterflies waging war in their bellies. Jack and Mari, of course, hid their nerves well, and Will's stiffness was put up to the fact that he was a Navy man. They were led to their chairs; Jack next to Milo, and Mari next to him. Will was seated on the other side of the table, between Milo and his sister, Juliette de Bordeaux.

"Bonjour," she murmured at Will, simpering a bit. He smiled uncertainly, vowing to murder Jack painfully if they lived through this. The woman was at least ten years his senior, and bearing only the last rays of attraction. Her face was painted pale, with one of those horrid beauty marks on her upper lip. Hair that was obviously a wig piled impossibly high on her head, and her nails as she reached for her water were like claws.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he said amiably, before sending Jack a furious look. It was all the pirate could do to keep from laughing aloud. _Juliette has certainly changed, _he thought. _One can hope that I've changed as much_.

Mari, catching the expressions sent between poor William and her father, hid her smirk in a glass of wine while eyeing Mademoiselle de Bordeaux. Jack _had an affair with _her _Must have been a looker in her youth…_

Juliette smiled amenably at Mari, before awarding Jack with a flirtatious grin. He smiled back in kind, and Juliette frowned in thought.

"You seem familiar to me, Monsieur. Have we met? At an evening soiree, perhaps?"

The three companions all felt the same jolt of panic, but none showed it. Jack merely awarded her with another winning grin.

"If I had ever met someone so enchanting as yourself, Mademoiselle, I'm certain I would remember."

Juliette examined him for a few moments more, before turning her full attention back to Will. Mari attempted not to smirk as she leaned uncomfortably close to the blacksmith. Clearly, he would have no trouble whatsoever distracting the woman. Milo however…

Mari gave him a glance, highly disturbed by the looks he'd been sending her. Jack was keeping his attention with a stream of gesture-accentuated banter, but the noble's eyes kept straying to Mari. Or, more specifically, her bust.

The young pirate captain turned back to her food. The sooner they were able to get out of here –_And I out of this corset-_ the better.

Sangre clambered ashore, excitement pumping the dead heart in his chest. The Sirens' hum became higher pitched, more excited. They were close; so close. Sangre smiled as he breathed the air, scenting their presence. Not only were they close, they were trapped. And the fourth, the one carrying Turner's blood, was on her way.

Sangre laughed to himself.

"They're making it easy for us, ladies. They're all coming together in one sweet little package."

The hum became louder, and oh-so soothing. The sea-witches were contented, for once. Sangre sneaked along the edges of the manor property, deciding it best to wait until the last had joined them. Then it would be an easy matter to scoop them up, and take what he had come for.

"Elizabeth!" Norrington stalked quickly behind the woman as she and Annamaria loaded a dinghy. "You can't go haring off in the middle of the night in your condition; it's dangerous!"

"It'd be dangerous no matter what condition I was in, Commodore," Elizabeth replied tightly. "But I'd still be going, without a chance of you stopping me." The young woman turned to face him. "Therefore you have two choices; you may come with us, or you may wait here."

Annamaria eyed the Commodore briefly before returning to her task. She didn't fully trust Norrington, as he _had_ nearly hanged her captain, more than once, and would probably hang her, given the chance. But, for now, he seemed to be working with them, even if only out of sheer necessity. She was willing to give as long as he was.

"You may as well come with us, man," she said without looking at him. "'Tis woman's intuition that's driving us, and that's not to be argued with. Elizabeth knows there be danger, and I feel the same." With that, the two women clambered into the vessel. A moment later, James followed.

"Let's be off then," he said blandly.


End file.
